A Life of Miley
by missing in imagination
Summary: These are two writing pieces of mine that I've molded into one, expressing my gratitude, my adoration, & my love for Miley. If you're a fan read this & put yourself in the same position. Do you think we mean as much to her as she means to us?


**I hope somebody relates to this. I hope I'm not the only one who feels this way. It may come across this way, but I am not "in love" with Miley- I don't think of her sexually or whatever. But for these past four years, I have consistently had this adoration for Miley despite her faults. I had to write this for me because I have made so many failed attempts at trying to put my feelings into words that make sense until now. I have never had such difficulty with finishing a writing piece but I guess it's just because there's nothing to put an end to. I will be a fan, more than a fan, forever. If you relate to any bit of these emotions, please tell me so I at least know I am some what sane.  
**

_written on March 15, 2010_

_The show changed my life. It came in March 2006 and since then my entire world has revolved around Miley Cyrus and there isn't one ounce of regret I have for that. It was in eighth grade when I sent my very first fan letter to her for a writing assignment. Months later I got in the mail a promotional card with her picture on it and her printed signature on the front. I was so full of joy. Since then, I have seen her in person eight times, I have met her with star-struck eyes and a captivated heart, and I have supported her unconditionally. I don't regret it and I never will. I will carry my deep admiration, support, and friendly love for her throughout the rest of my years. I hope that there never comes a day when I doubt her or doubt myself for ever looking up to her, but if that day does come, I will look upon it with disappointment but then look inside my heart for the remarkable memories and adventures._

_I know she has done wrong. And so have I._

_But Miley and I will continue to live in a parallel universe. We will find love and marry men who love us not for who we are but for who we are holding inside. We will live in homes where quiet can consume our souls and we can write or read or imagine and dream on the front porch with a glass of sweet tea. We will have children tugging at our pant legs and watch them turn in the dirt with dresses of cotton and silk. We will mature together as we always have. And one day, through a result of hard work and success in my career, we will meet in glamorous dresses and jewels. I will quickly tell her how when I was 13 years old, I saw a star on the television screen but through clear eyes I saw a much needed friend. And maybe then, we will meet up weeks later for coffee on a sunny afternoon with our little girls playing at our feet, watching them naturally form a friendship. We will chat together about film ideas and screenplays, plots, and characters. We'll laugh at our younger years and smile at the present. I will notice how her skin is folding from the sun and her hair is no longer past her shoulders but she is still the same and she shines. I will tell Miley how she carried me through my most unbearable times and she will tell me, how in those adolescent years, fans like me lifted her too._

Present day.

You know, I've dreamed of this day. When the stars would align and the sky would open up and God, with his golden hands, would place me in the same place as Miley. And I'd see her, in flesh and bone, and she suddenly wouldn't be just a poster or a photograph or a voice. She'd be a person and I'd be too and for once we'd be at the same level, just two people getting our coffee.

My mind is racing, so I'm convinced that this is real.

"Miley?"

She turns around and sort of smiles at me. Then leaves Liam to pay for their drinks and walks over to me for the usual- fan, photo, chat, bye, forgotten. But I don't want to be forgotten.

"I know that you want your privacy," I say cautiously, "but can I please have a picture with you real quick?"

"Sure." We pose quickly and Liam takes the shot. I pray to God that it turns out well, that it's in focus and the lighting is okay and that my nose doesn't look too big and I don't look like I really am a full head taller than her. I can't wait for my friends to see this one. It totally earns the right to be my profile picture for the next twelve years.

"And," I swallow hard, my head is spinning but I finally come back down to earth with enough sense to utter something interesting. "I just want you to know that no matter what there are a lot of girls your age who will stick beside you every single day, regardless of what you do.. We all love you."

She looks up with a glow. "That's really nice to hear," but then the life fades, "It's just all these paparazzi… we just wanted to have a nice day out together, alone. But they don't stop."

"I'd take them out for you." I watch a laugh spread on her face, "But I'm afraid that'd cause even more problems."

"Yeah no, if that was a good idea I would've done that a long time ago," she smiles, "But thank you."

I smile back.

I wish to tell her everything- how she saved me, how she made me who I am; how in an instant she can take me from the bottom and lift me to the top. How in 8th grade I pretended to be Miley and my ex-bestfriend was Lilly, how I'd sing Nobody's Perfect through the halls without a care, and how one day I wore my fake Hannah wig to school and my teachers just thought it was part of the school play. I want to tell her how she may have been the one thing that kept me solid during high school and when junior year was all SATs and GPA, I could come home and know she'd be there, Party in the USA, and it was my escape. I want to tell her how for _years_ I tried so hard to believe that her and Nick were meant to be. How I wrote stupid stories about their bondless love with some people really enjoying them and how that's what I would write about in my notebook when I had free time in physics or world history. But then I would tell her how I gave up on them like they gave up on each other and how it's better that way because Liam will be so much more of a man than Nick ever could dream of being. He will be strong for her and stand next to her, hold her hand and kiss her in public. I want to tell her how I hope they'll get married and I'll make sure I'm at the wedding with a big poster that says 'I told you so!'. Or maybe I should leave that part out.

I want to tell her how I have a folder on my computer labeled "miley cyrus" with 696 photos saved in it and there's a framed picture of her on my bedroom wall. In the bottom drawer of my bedside table I've kept magazines with her on the cover, some dating back to 2007 and others that I just found at a garage sale and couldn't leave without. I've got all her cd's up on my shelf next to the picture of me and her when we met for the first time on the Best of Both Worlds Tour. We were both 15 at the time and I can't want to place the picture we just took right next to it and see how much time can change but still remain the same.

I want to tell her everything. I have to tell her how it is so freaking hard having a best friend that hates my hero/idol/myeverything. How for years I've been too busy on the computer reading about her love life instead of going out to find one for myself. How I'm scared to go to college because I'm afraid I won't be able to find somebody who would see her in concert with me because my sister won't be there. I wish I could explain how it's been _so hard_ defending her when girls in my class comment about her latest news headline, but I still stick up for her because they don't know the other side of her, they don't really _know_ _you_.

I just want to tell you..

God, I just want to tell you how _proud_ I am.

But I know well enough that this isn't what she wants to hear right now. It may be what she needs to hear, a reassuring note that love continues to surround her, but she has someone else on her mind and other things worth worrying about. She doesn't need my sympathy, all this time she's been strong enough without it.

"Well I'll let you guys go now," I say and watch them walk out the door, "Have a great day. And thank you for the picture."

She waves and Liam's got one hand opening the door for her and the other on her back. The door closes and through the fingerprinted glass, I watch them walk away with the occasional camera flash from a distance. She sips at her coffee and says something to Liam who peers back at me and raises his hand goodbye as some sort of gesture of appreciation. Maybe she told him what I told her. Maybe she read my mind of all that I wanted to say. Maybe I made her smile a little bit brighter because god knows she's done that enough for me.

I just don't want to be forgotten.

But God pulled his golden hands back into the sky and the stars returned to their hiding spots behind the clouds. Miley stepped back into her world and I stumbled back into mine. I don't think there is a way to successfully express how I feel or to explain why I have conceptualized this "life of miley". All I know is that she's saved me. And I hope in some way I've saved her too.

* * *

(please review, i want to see if somebody actually understands this.)


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